


High By The Beach ++ Damijon

by Passionteaforapansexualweeb



Series: Golden Sand (Damijon/Jondami) [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Breaking Up & Making Up, Caring Batfamily (DCU), Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Damijon - Freeform, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Gay Damian Wayne, Gay Jonathan Samuel Kent, Gotham City - Freeform, Jondami, Lana Del Rey References, M/M, Men Crying, Mild OoC, Other, Road Trips, Superfamily (DCU), Title from a Lana Del Rey Song, Worried Batfamily (DCU), lots of Lana Del Rey songs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:40:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27111343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Passionteaforapansexualweeb/pseuds/Passionteaforapansexualweeb
Summary: Damian and Jon broke up. After a year of dating, they broke up. And it hits both of them hard. Both are torn apart, depressed, and honest disasters. And the Batfam and Superfam have HAD it. In order to get the two back together, they are forced to go on a cross-country road trip to the West Coast together.Boy does this hurt.(Title name from Lana Del Rey's 'High By The Beach')
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Wally West, Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Roy Harper/Jason Todd, Stephanie Brown/Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent
Series: Golden Sand (Damijon/Jondami) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1978891
Comments: 9
Kudos: 42





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: Despite the name of the book, this book has nothing to do with drugs or getting stoned at a beach. It is merely just me pouring my Damijon fantasies onto a computer. Nothing special. Also, there is a lot of break-up related, sad couple things in this book. If you don't like it, don't read. If you do, I hope you enjoy it. Finishing off my note, for the Part One thing on the cover, there are two more parts to be written. I'm not sure how many chapters are going to be in this first book, so bear with me. Jessica the author. How original.

"WE'RE DONE! IT'S OVER, KENT!" Damian shouted, tears threatening to fall out of his eyes. Jon stood in the middle of a trashed room, eyes not focusing on Damian. "We. are. OVER! I can't believe I ever loved you! Hell, I probably wouldn't have if you-" 

"Just leave," Jon whispered. In his hands, he clutched a framed photograph. "go." 

"-you _cheating_ BITCH-" Damian's eyes widened, filling with hurt. Jon gripped the frame tighter, feeling the glass crack under his touch. "Go to hell-"

_SMACK._

Red began to sprout on Damian's tan cheek. "Get out." 

Damian slowly reached a hand up to his cheek, glaring at Jon, who was out of breath, panting. His face was red, eyes bloodshot behind his glasses. Damian stood there in shock, for once that afternoon, quiet. His hand was still holding onto his cheek. This... this wasn't Jon. 

"Get. The. _FUCK._ Out." Jon growled. Damian blinked, frowning. 

"Fine then. This is goodbye then, Kent." And with that, he walked out of Jon's apartment, throat tightening. The tears from earlier returned, now flooding. No. He wasn't going to cry. He can't. He won't. He was stronger than this... 

Stronger... yet... _plop_. 

Damian perked up at feeling off something wet on the collar of his shirt. He hesitantly brought a hand up to his face... something cool rolled down one of his fingers. He was...

_Crying._

And he couldn't stop. He didn't cry. He can't cry. He won't. He wants to. He did. He is... Damian backed up onto the door of Jon's apartment, sliding down. Sitting on the floor. His hands wiped at his face, hiding his incoming sobs. It _hurt_. It was _painful_. 

Seeing Jon like that. It wasn't painful physically, but mentally. Emotionally. But that wasn't his Jon. His love. His Beloved. That wasn't the bubbly air-headed nerd. That was... his fault. His fault. 

Tears continued to fall as the piercing feeling in his chest stabbed deeper into his heart. 

And for some reason...

Crying helped. It helped. It helped Damian Wayne, one who never cried, feel more dead and empty than before. Emptying his emotions, emptying his bitterness, replacing it with nothing. Leaving it as it is. 

And that _hurt_. 

++

Jon sat at the opposite side of the door, head throbbing, heart-throbbing, body throbbing. The picture he was holding earlier was hurled at the wall, shattered to pieces. All that remained was the shards of glass and the broken frame on top of an old picture. 

He ran his hands through his hair, moving down underneath his glasses, rubbing at his tired eyes. Stubble from last night grew fast on the half-Kryptonian, making his young face look ten years older. 

_"I fucked up... I FUCKED shit up..."_ Jon threw his head back, slamming it against the door. He didn't recoil or groan in pain. It didn't hurt compared to how his heart was feeling right now. He and Damian just broke up. 

Damian just broke up with him, over some drunken mistake Jon did. 

And by... Jon's fist landed in the wall next to him, breaking through. "Shit!" Jon cursed. He ripped his hand back out, ready to punch another hole in his wall when his super-hearing captured something from outside his door. 

_Sniffle_... 

What... he pressed his ear against the door this time, fully taking in what he heard. Was Damian... was his Beloved... _crying_... 

Damian never cried. 

The fact that he _knew_ damn well that he made his own boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend, now cry...

It _hurt_.

-

"Hey, Damian! How was the thing with Jon-" Dick started. Damian threw a pocketed bat-a-rang at him, just barely missing Dick's face. Some strands of Dick's long hair **(Again, going with my favorite Dick Grayson design: Mullet Grayson, but without the mullet)** fluttered to the floor. 

" _Don't mention his name,"_ Damian hissed. Dick's eyes widened at the state of his baby brother. Puffy eyes, not-so dry tear tracks down his cheeks. His eyes were bloodshot and his usual good posture was a full-out slump. Something had gone wrong, and Dick wasn't having it. 

"Okay then," he answered, watching as Damian grabbed Alfred the cat off the couch, stomped up the stairs, and slammed the door to his room as loud as he could. Ah. Yeah. Something was up. And Dick needed answers. 

"What's up with him?" Tim walked into the room, blowing on his new cup of fresh coffee. Dick sighed, removing the bat-a-rang that latched itself onto the wall. 

"Something went wrong with him and Jon... I think I know what might have happened. Do you think Kon can ask Jon what happened? They are... half-brothers. I'm curious. Damian's never acted like this in the past." 

"Sure. I guess." Tim shifted the laptop in his arms to his left, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He scrolled through his endless contact until he came upon Kon's, labeled: _Konnie_ ❤. The phone rang for about fifteen seconds until Kon finally answered. 

_"Hey, Timmy. What's the problem, babe?"_

"Don't call me that now! My annoying older brother is in the room," Tim glared at Dick who merely ignored it, crossing his arms. "I need you to talk to Jon about something."

_"About what? I'm flying over Central City right now. I can get there in about... fifteen minutes. What's up with him? Did he and Dames do something?"_

"I think that's what this is about. Dick wanted me to call you so you could talk to him about the brat-" Dick grabbed the phone from Tim, putting it to his ear. 

"Hey Kon. This is Dick. Damian just came home and he wasn't looking himself. I think Jon and him might have... broken up. Or fought. I don't know. I want you to ask Jon what happened."

_"Sure... is that it?"_

"Yes. Thanks. Bye." Dick handed Tim his phone back, exhaling sharply. 

"Thanks, _Dick_ ," Tim sneered, taking back his phone, exiting the living room. Dick once again ignored his younger brother, running a hand through his loose hair. Okay. Damian was either high on something, had an allergic reaction, or Jon did something and was about to get Kryptonite shoved up his ass. 

Needless to say, that fluorescent green crystal of sorts might never see the light of day _again,_ if Jon did something. But first - Dick needed to know what was up. 

++

**(I will be introducing my oc in this fic, so whooo! She'll only be in the first... three or four chapters - the rest will be centered on Damijon. Just an FYI.)**

"You did _what?!"_ Ashe growled. Jon had his palms covering his tired face, awaiting death. He'd gone to Damian's adoptive sister to tell her what he'd done and she'd thrown her half-eaten salmon bagel at his face. 

"It was an _accident!_ I had _zero_ intention to cheat on Damian!" 

"So breaking my brother's heart was an _'accident?'"_ she reached over the table, grabbing her salmon bagel from off Jon's plate, taking a large bite from it. The onion that was in it was already to sting Jon's eyes - Ashe threw it so hard at his face, he could've sworn he nearly blacked out. 

"Yes...?" Ashe frowned. 

"Okay listen - you're one of my best friends - but goddaYUM. I don't want to have to choose my brother or you. What you did. What _you_ fucked up? Things like that take time to heal. May take over a thousand. And you two were so cute together. I want you two to make up. No matter what it takes. Because I. Am. Not. About. To watch my two best friends break over something as dumb as this. Talk to him."

"Like that's going to happen. Damian wants nothing to do with me."

"Mhm..." Ashe got up, placing her pay on the table. "Well then. I'll talk to you later. I got shopping to do with Nova."

"Yeah... thanks, Ashe. I guess."

"No prob. But let me remind you again," she grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him close so their faces were about seven inches away from each other. Jon's cerulean eyes looked into Ashe's mismatched ones. The grey and blue both dropped to a sinister coldness in her eyes.

"You hurt him again, I will personally _grab you by your neck,_ and _shove you down a shower drain._ And I don't want to clean that up. Also, shave your stubble. You look like a meth-addicted frat boy - nerd." 

"Right." Ashe patted him on his shoulder, walking away from the outdoor cafe table with her iced tea in hand. 

"Wow... threatened by Ashe, huh? Rare, but scary. So's your stubble. Gross." Jon turned around to see his half-brother, Kon standing there, sunglasses on, leather jacket on, and a smug look on his face. He sighed, using his foot to push Ashe's now empty seat out. Kon took it, slinging his arm around the back. 

"What exactly happened? Timmy called, says Dick wants answers." 

"I messed things up with Damian. I fucked something up, he hates me, I ruined... everything." Jon confessed, pushing away his forgotten sandwich. Kon took it, flipping through the layers. Ham, cheese, lettuce, tomato, mustard, mayo. 

"How so? Inquiring minds want to _know_ ," Kon took a bite off the opposite end of the sandwich. 

"Where do I start?" Jon brushed a hand under his eyes, rubbing at the corners of his eyes. 

**(You'll see what happened in Book 2. Sorry, not really sorry.)**

++

**(Also, I recently got obsessed with using plus signs for my little 'break thingies' so uwu)**

++

"Damian? Damian? Can I come in?" Dick opened the door to Damian's room. 

"You're already opening the door, so you might as well. I know you won't leave me alone after this." Damian's voice sounded hoarse. From what Dick could see, Damian laid on his bed, dressed in a hoodie that most _definitely_ his and oversized pants - that probably weren't his as well. It was obvious who they belonged to - Jon.

"Hey, Damian..." Dick gently shut the door behind him, locking it. Knowing this household, barging into rooms wasn't something unusual. They didn't care if you were in the bathroom taking a shit - barging in. Having some 'naughty' time? Don't care. 

But Damian needed this time to himself. 

Dick, wanting to respect Damian's personal space, pulled out his rolling desk chair, sitting down on it. "Mind... telling me what happened?"

"No." Damian shifted on his bed, turning the opposite way from his older brother. Dick pursed his lips. He got up, walking over to Damian's bed. Sitting at the edge, he sat, awaiting Damian's confession. 

If it took the rest of the afternoon and night for him to speak up, so be it. 

As the eldest, **(;))** Dick couldn't just watch his younger siblings act... so depressed. It was something that just... he couldn't ignore it. After the death of Jason, he found that instead of Bruce comforting him, it was him trying to comfort Bruce. That was probably the thing that sparked this... desire to care. Talk to his siblings. Act like their parent. Like an older sibling.

"You don't need or have to tell me. I'm just here if you need someone to talk to. I'll be here as long as you want me to be." 

A small grunt could be heard from Damian. He shifted his head, exposing his tear-streaked cheeks and still, crying eyes. The once powerful-looking emerald eyes were now dull orbs of sadness. 

_"He... cheated. We're... we b-broke up..."_ he faintly whispered. 

Dick's gut feeling was right. 

++

**That's it for the first chapter! 2035 words! Not the most I've ever written, but the most written for the first chapter! For all those tearing out their hearts - put them back in.**

**The first three chapters focus on depressed Damian and Jon - the rest is going to be them getting back together and shit. Prepare for more Lana Del Rey songs!**

**For the second book, as I said, it will be like the first part of this? Like what specifically happened. Might not be as long, depends on if my lazy ass decides to actually update shit for once.**

**That's it..... for now. Jessica the author. How original. Hope you enjoyed this so far!**


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Notesss~ There's going to be a whole three month time skip 'cause my ass is? What's my ass? Flat- LAZY! Some disclaimers? Nah. Not in this chapter. The actual plot is starting in the second chapter unlike all my other fics because 1: I feel bad that I started the 'The Things You Do For Love' drama in the like, fifteenth chapter, or 2: Because I just want to get shit done. You decide. Just kidding, it's both of them. Enjoy!~ Jessica the author. How original.)

"This is honestly becoming worse for them each week. And it's been three months... that like... Nova, how many weeks?" 

"About twelve-ish weeks." 

"Exactly. I don't know about you, but this is taking a toll of not just them, but us as well," Ashe explained. Gathered in the large living room were the Batfam as well as the Kents, minus Jon. Lois, Clark, Kon, and Krypto. 

"I feel the same way, Achaya. Jon has been... more distant. He doesn't come home to visit, he doesn't let us into his apartment... And when we do see him, he's all moody and rude. I really think that they _have_ to get back together." Lois sadly petted Krypto. 

"What should we do though? They refuse to see each other, more or less, talk about each other. We all tried. Damian won't talk and Jon ignores it. Sending them on a mission would be pointless." Nova pointed out. 

"Uh... what about... dang. I got nothing." 

"Or... hey. What did we do like... two years ago when Jaime and Bart almost broke up?" Ashe suddenly shot up from the couch. 

"Uh... we sent them to Arizona?" Nova raised an eyebrow. 

"See?! We can do that!" Ashe excitedly pointed at her girlfriend. However, everyone else in the room had _zero_ ideas about what she was going on about. 

"Why would we send them to Arizona?" Jason asked. Ashe slumped. "We're not _specifically_ sending them to Arizona. I meant, like a road trip. Cross-country. We tell them to... to do something right? It's fake. It's a trap." 

"Like... we send them on a road trip mission?" Tim pondered. Ashe snapped her fingers, turning them into finger guns. 

"Exactly! But there is no mission!" she smirked, crossing her arms. 

"So just a road trip?" Nova summed it all up. 

"Basically." Ashe sat back down next to Nova, kicking the coffee table. The living room became awfully quiet. Lois and Clark whispered to one another. Bruce and Dick copied. Tim, Jason, Kon, and the rest of the Batfam all talked about it in hushed tones. 

"I think. I think that might work. You said it worked for Jaime and Bart, right?" Lois asked. Ashe nodded. "Then... I think we should let them go. Right, Clark?" Clark nodded. The question now was where the _hell_ were they going to send them? 

Maybe not Arizona... and it's got to be able to reach by car. 

"New York?" Jason suggested. "I know that they haven't been there as a cou- I know that they haven't been there together." 

"That's a bit close... about a four-hour drive. We need something that will get them out of the house. Somewhere on the West Coast? Cali? Nevada? Oregon?" Nova listed out most of the states aligned around the West Coast. 

"Hawaii? They can take a trip there." 

"Then I'd wanna go. Nova and I still have some of the smaller islands to visit," Ashe dragged, flopping deeper into the thick leather couch. Everyone huffed. It's true. Having them go to Hawaii would be a little unfair. Beaches, mountains, volcanoes - what other places had those? 

Wait-

"CALIFORNIA! WE CAN LET THEM GO TO CALI! THE BIG APPLE OF THE WEST COAST!" Ashe leaped up, jumping onto the coffee table. "It has almost everything Hawaii has! Beaches, mountains, there's this one volcano in this place called McCloud, I love it there-" 

**(McCloud - my grandparents used to live there. There was this dormant volcano called 'Mount Shasta.' It was a small lumbering and camping town. Nothing much to it. Anywho, back to the story.)**

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Where _exactly_ are we sending them? To a city or a small lumber town? I'm all in for sending them to California since that sounds great - but where? Los Angeles? San Diego? **(Place I lived for the first five years of my life. Good times.)** We can't just force them to go there without any specific direction."

"They have a GPS-" 

"Not _that_ type of direction. I meant, what specific directions, as in 'instructions.'"

"Oh. That makes more sense. A lot more sense actually."

"Then it's a plan? We send them to California?" 

"I'd say we do it," Clark stretched his arms. 

"As do I," Lois replied. 

"Alright then! Project GettingDamianAndJobBackTogetherAgainSoWeDon'tHaveToAwkwardlyDoShitSeperately is a go!" 

"Uh, yeah..." 

++

**(Quick time skipps~)**

++ 

"You can't make me go!" Damian growled, doing his best to keep the blanket he had been living in for the past few months. "I refuse to go!" 

"Too bad! We already packed your shit! You are going, and that's that!" Ashe tugged on the corner of the blanket. In the meantime, Jon leaned against his blue convertible, practically in the same ropes as Damian. 

He wanted to go to California - maybe with Damian - but not with this... Damian. 

"C'mon Damian! You can't live in your room all depressed over something like this for the rest of your life! You have a life to live! Things to do! Missions! Patrols! Vacationing!" Dick grabbed Damian's waist, hoisting him, firefighter style. 

"Let me go!" Damian thrashed. He clawed at Dick's back, squirming around. That did nothing. Although Damian's 'talons' were incredibly painful, nothing was stopping the Batfam and Superfam from getting these two out of Gotham and Metropolis for however long it takes them to get to and from California. 

Their relationship was one of the only things keeping Bruce and Clark from fighting, so breaking it would probably result in the breaking of a peace treaty. And they need less Superman vs Batman battles and more peace. 

This road trip might be the last thing that keeps that peace. 

++

"Bye! Enjoy your trip!" the Batfam all happily waved 'buh-bye' to them as Jon's convertible rolled out of the driveway. Damian, who they had to wrestle into his usual dress shirt and pants, sat shotgun, murderous energy radiating from the Wayne. 

"Do you think he'll murder Jon?" Ashe turned to Nova as she dropped her raised hand to her side. 

"50/50 chance."

"Ah. Probably. 50/50 chance."   
  
++

**(Insert Lana Del Rey's 'Blue Jeans.' This song is a reference to the next book. I would recommend looking at the lyrics or giving it a listen to understand. There's going to be a lot of hints to the second book.)**

++

_'But you fit me better than my favorite sweater, and I know'_

_'That love is mean, and love hurts'_

_'But I still remember that day we met in December, oh baby'_

_I will love you till the end of time_  
I would wait a million years  
Promise you'll remember that your mine. 

Damian hugged his arms together, looking at the cityscape flashing by. Jon snuck a glance at his ex-boyfriend. Same hair, same suit, and tie combo... 

It was different, being with him. But not together. Just separate. Emotionally. 

_'Baby, can you see through the tears?'_

_'Love you more, than those bitches before.'_

Hm. Apparently, he didn't show his love more. Because a _bitch_ stole the rest of his and shared it with Jon. And Jon shared his with them. 

Clenching his teeth, Damian's left hand shot towards the radio stereo, lowering the volume all the way down. 

"I was listening to that." 

"I don't care. It was annoying." 

Jon blinked, keeping his eyes on the road. They were now driving through downtown Gotham, heading towards the interstate that leads them to the more suburban, rural areas. 

"You could have asked me to turn it down." 

"You would have said no." 

"Dami, you know-"

" _Don't call. me. that."_ Damian hissed, Batglaring at Jon. 

"Fine. I'll keep it off. You happy?" 

"I'm never happy." 

"It's been a while since I've heard that line from you. What happened?" 

"Take a wild _**fucking**_ guess," Damian groused. Jon sighed, turning onto the highway. 

++

**(Notes: End of this chapter! 1409 words! Just wanted to get the second chapter since I still had some inspiration in me, so here it is! Like I said, please check out the lyrics and song 'Blue Jeans' by Lana Del Rey for more references for the second book. It'll be a lot easier to understand when I write it. Nothing else to tell you guys really, so I hoped you enjoyed this chapter!)**

**(Note note: I made another Instagram account! Specifically for fanfiction requests, updates, covers, art for fics, and other shit!**

**Link: /instagram.com/neon_camoflauge/**

**It is also in my bio! Please give me a follow! A follow for a follow! :))**

**(Note note note: Yes, this is the last note: feel free to check out my other fics with Damian pairings!**

**+The Things You Do For Love - Daminette+**

**+Filled with Poison, Blessed with Beauty and Rage+**

**+Sweet Like Cinnamon - Genderbent Daminette+**

**+Three-D Glasses - DamiMariJon+ ) (Not yet posted!)**


	3. Three

_"-mian..._ Damian! Damian! Wake up!" 

"Mm?" Damian's eyes slowly began to flutter open. _'Mm... comfortable.'_

The air was different - it wasn't warm like outside. It felt like a fresh wave of A/C while atop a hotel comforter. Not to mention he was laying down. Jon must have stopped somewhere. What time was it? 

"Are you awake yet?" Jon sat on the bed opposite him, holding him a bottle of water. Hm. So they were in some cheap motel. Damian's hands reached for it underneath the blanket, only to stop. He was pretty thirsty. **(;))**

But... "I'm awake."

"Oh! That's great! We're in... uh... we're about four hours from Pennsylvania. It's about eight in the morning. You fell asleep right after we stopped at that diner for dinner. I didn't want to wake you, so I rented a room here." 

"I see. Thanks." 

"No problem! I brought you some water," Jon gave him a small smile, handing him the bottle. Damian hesitantly took it, uncapping it. "I figured you were probably parched. After all, you slept for about fourteen hours. I was a little worried since you barely ate anything for dinner. Was the food that bad?" 

"No..." Damian slowly took a sip. 

"Well, there's a breakfast buffet downstairs... I wasn't sure what you wanted... so I just got you some bananas and a green smoothie. The buffet wasn't really 'vegan-vegetarian' friendly. And I brought our suitcases up. So you get your make- ur, toiletries, and stuff."

Jon almost slipped with the 'makeup.' There was nothing wrong with men wearing makeup; it was more of Jon teasing Damian for wearing things like a foundation to cover bruises and minor scars and the occasional eyeliner or mascara for that extra 'emo'-ness. 

He wasn't sure if Damian would take the teasing. For all he knew, Damian might not have his katana on him, but he probably had some sort of shuriken or poison pill on him. Overreacting was something Jon did best, apparently. 

"Oh. Thanks." Damian slowly slinked out of bed. He was still wearing the same clothes as yesterday - minus the pants. Only his boxers, dress shirt and socks. Jon wasn't sure if Damian was going to wake up and yell at him for an 'attempt at assault.' But he did look pretty tired...

"I'll be in the bathroom." 

"Of course... take your time!" Jon called as Damian shut the door behind him. 

That wasn't as bad as he thought. Damian wasn't so... mean. It was either the long night of just, out-cold sleep or the fact that Damian accepted that he had to get along with Jon no matter how much he hated it. 

++

"Hey, Damian. You look nice!" Jon gently complimented when Damian walked out dressed in a fedora, black cardigan, white dress shirt, and black skinny jeans. 

"Thanks... you too." 

"Really?" Jon smiled happily, looking over his outfit. Thick glasses, pale blue button-up, old ripped jeans, and green Converse. "Sure," Damian rushed to his suitcase. "I haven't seen you wear that before. I think that's my shirt." 

"O-oh? My bad!" Jon began to unbutton, only for Damian to come back around and button it back up. "Keep it. Blue's not my color." a rouge appeared around Jon's freckled **(If anyone wants to tell me 'JoN dOESn'T haVe FreCKleS,' lemme tell you: I don't give a** _fuckkk~)_ cheeks. 

"I suppose we should get on the road." 

"Right! The road!" Jon patted his pants for his keys. The familiar jingle wasn't there. "Hey, uh Dami, SORRY! Damian, have you seen my-" 

Damian stood in the open doorway, suitcases ready. Sunglasses on. With his car keys swinging on his left ring finger. **(hint, hint for book three- ;))** "Oh," Jon's fearful facial expression softened. 

"I'll drive. You look pretty tired yourself." 

"Me? No, I'm fine!" Jon lied. So maybe Damian was right. He didn't get enough sleep last night - maybe about an hour or so before he got up to go on a quick jog around the motel. The rest was spent watching Damian. He would thrash about in his sleep. He even cried, muttering _'please don't go,'_ and _'I love you.'_

It was hurting him so much to see the one he loves in this state. 

And that's why he had to make things up. Make things right. 

Hopefully in the span of one cross-country road trip. 

++

Sun beamed down on the two in the open convertible as the sun slowly shifted across the sky. Jon relaxed in the passenger seat, basking in the light. Damian was still driving, fedora on after nearly three hours. 

"I'm surprised that your hat still hasn't flown away. Is it secured there with hair gel or whatever?" Jon broke the awkward silence between them. Damian took one hand off the steering wheel, turning on the car stereo. 

**(This song: 'Dark Paradise' by Lana Del Rey. Yes, I am obsessed. Sue me. Don't actually, I have zero money to pay shit like that-)**

_'Every time I close my eyes'_

Jon inhaled. That was probably a sign that Damian didn't want to talk.

_'It's like a dark paradise'_

Dark paradise... 

_'No one compares to you'_

Jon stared at Damian out of the corner of his eyes, watching how he winced at the lyrics. 

_'I'm scared that you won't be waiting on the other side'_

Was that... a reference to last night? _'Please don't go?'_ That when Damian gets to this other side... or when he does... he'll be leaving Damian? Like when they broke up? This was getting all confusing. Was the radio intentionally playing these songs? Or did he just now realize the meaning of the lyrics? 

Either way, Jon was both freaked and stressed out. This radio was most likely cursed. 

Damian seemed unphased by it, continuing to drive them along the interstate with ease. He turned the radio up louder, something he rarely did. 

Jon sunk deeper into the leather seats of his convertible. Guess that meant no conversations. Or apologies. For now. He pulled out his phone, using one hand to text and the other to block the sun darkening his screen. 

_**Ashieee:** hey hows the trip so far_

_**Ashieee:** is damian okay? plse tell me you gots him to sleip_

_**Ashieee:** sleep* _

**supeyjon:** sorry i didn't answer earlier. i got him to sleep. he's doing good so far. we're about an hour away from Pennsylvania 

Jon watched as the three little dots 'bubbled,' waiting for Ashe to finish typing. 

_**Ashieee:** cool! did you uh _

_**Ashieee:** talk 2 him yet_

Jon bit down on his bottom lip. He **DID** try to, only to be ignored. Should he tell Ashe that? 

**supeyjon:** _not yet... he's still kind of pissed_

_**Ashieee:** i figuyred_

_**Ashieee:** figured_

_**Ashieee:** well i'm at novas and her nieces are tackling me ttyl _

Jon lightly smiled. Nova's constituent of older siblings meant a ton of nieces and nephews, all of which loved Ashe.

**supeyjon:** _alright then. ttyl. good luck!_

 _ **Ashieee:**_ 😆

++ 

The afternoon rolled in pretty quickly as Damian drove them along the highway. They found themselves driving through a small rural - suburban Pennsylvanian town, complete with a whole cluster of tall evergreen trees, old looking cabins, and diners decorated with license plates from the '70s and '90s. 

**(No, I have never been to Pennsylvania. This is just my idea of it? It's really just based on where my grandparents live in Washington state.)**

"We need to get gas," Damian deadpanned. Jon, who was staring off into space jumped at Damian's voice. "What?!" he squeaked out, rubbing at his left eye. Damian repeated the 'we need to get gas,' statement. 

"Oh. Gas. There's a nice... gas station over there." he pointed about sixty yards from where they were waiting at a red light. Damian 'tted,' muttering something about how there was 'no such things as a nice gas station.' 

**(Quick note: Maybe in Japan or Korea. Back when I used to live in Japan they had these 7-11's connected to these incredibly clean gas stations with like, sanitized bathrooms, healthy food, GOOD food- goddamn. Bringing back memories. Continue reading. :))**

++ 

As Damian filled up the car with gas, Jon was walking around the small store/deli connected to it. Sandwiches, croissants, cookies, bagels, stuffed, or cheesy pretzels were all organized in incubated racks. 

Shelves lined with chips, crackers, wasabi coated peanuts, licorice, and candies lined the walls. In the back, assorted, multi-colored drinks went from fizzy to fresh, to caffeinated, to alcohol. Two family bathrooms **(Genderless bathrooms-)** were on either corner of the shop. 

Shirts and baseball hats hung from hooks, alongside a whole spinning rack of postcards.

A thin woman in her sixties or early seventies sat at the counter, smoking a cigarette while looking like she regretted ever meeting her crackhead fisherman husband at a pier forty-three years ago. Cat shirt, khaki sweatpants, yellow and purple striped fanny pack, Doc Martens, tortoiseshell glasses, and a facial expression that just read 'sassy.'

If Ashe were with them, she'd _just adore_ this woman. 

"Kent. Let's go. I already filled up the car." Damian peeked in. Jon perked up, arms already full of chips and red licorice. Sitting on the counter was a six-pack of root beer, a full bottle of Diet Mountain Dew. **(Diet Mountain Dew - another reference for later chapters ;))**

Damian frowned, "Hurry it up."

Jon gave him a wide smile, dumping the rest of his road trip snacks onto the counter. 

++

Ridiculous. 

Utterly RIDicuLOUS. 

**(Had to do it- I NEED Damian saying Chloe's signature line.)**

Of course. They stop to get _only_ gas, and Kent decides to buy out the whole store. Damian sat in the driver's seat, paying no attention to his ex-boyfriend as he toddled out to his seat, fourteen different plastic bags full of chips and other greasy/salty foods. 

"Sorry about that. The lady-" 

"I don't care." 

Jon's smile wilted; Damian hated it when that happened. Not that he ever admitted it. 

"Well," seatbelt buckle. "I got you some water and this weird green tea. And a pack of biscotti." 

"Thanks..." biscotti sounded good. Last night's dinner of pancakes, overly sweet maple syrup, and smushy fruit wasn't an ideal... anything. Breakfast for dinner? He'd heard of Dick or Ashe having cereal or waffles for dinner when in a rush. 

But pancakes? Not for him. Probably why he only ate the cantaloupe appetizers that the waitresses brought around every twenty minutes. 

++ 

"Hey, Damian... can I talk to you?" 

"What." 

"I just wanted to say-"

"Save it."

"I-"

"I _said,_ _ **SAVE. It.** " _Jon looked away, an expression of hurt on his face. Damian huffed, wanting to do the same. If they weren't in a car, Damian probably would have left Jon alone, giving him the silent treatment until Jon would come over, wrap his arms around his tattooed waist and apologize. 

Apologize? Tt. Jon could take whatever apology he wanted to tell him and shove it down his own throat. It was clear that his siblings and Jon's parents did this to get them back together. He wasn't stupid. 

Jon messed this relationship up - no amount of help from both of their families would get Damian to forgive him. 

He still loved him... but couldn't stand the thought of being hurt again. 

"Damian... I know you don't want me talking to-"

"Do NOT make me _repeat_ myself. I. Want. NOTHING. To. Do. With. YOU. Nor will I talk to you. Save. It." 

++ 

Like last night, Jon found himself sitting on the edge of his cheap, slate of motel quality mattress, watching over Damian. He had curled himself into a little ball, sleeping in the opposite direction of Jon's bed. 

He didn't whisper or talk like last night - but he did squirm sometimes, catching the half-Kryptonian off-guard. 

All he could really hope for was Damian to forgive him.

No matter what it took.

**(TBC)**

_No notes for this chapter.... :))_ 😆


	4. Four

Alfred and Dick gathered up Damian's sheets and blankets, all of them needed a wash. Snot, dried tear stains, pet hair - not to mention they wreaked of Damian. While Alfred took care of that, Dick gathered all of Jon's items, hiding them in a box labeled, 'Jon's Stuff.'

Throwing it out might not be the best option - they still had another two weeks or so before they found out if they could have a bonfire party with all of Jon's old shirts and pictures. 

After finishing that, Dick grabbed a duster, making sure to thoroughly clean everything. Desk, chair, windowsill, bookshelf. By the time Dick had gone around the room, the once pink fluffy brush was matted down, barely visible pink strands sticking every which way. Yikes. 

"Are you finished with the dusting, Master Dick?" Alfred walked back in, air freshener in hand. 

"Yes, I am, Alfred." Alfred nodded, taking the duster from Dick, replacing it with the air freshener.

As he walked out of the room, Dick began to tremendously douse everything in it, spraying the warm cinnamon apple scent everywhere. 

++

**Meanwhile, with Jason and Roy, 'cause Jayroy is the best, fite me.**

++

Roy laid his head on Jason's thighs, **(ThiCc thighs, might I add.)** eyes shut. Jason fiddled with Roy's strawberry colored hair- **(Reference to 'Strawberries And Cigarettes' - I unpublished it since I still haven't really thought of the whole plot yet, lmao.)** -twisting the shoulder-length strands around his fingers. 

As he played with his boyfriend's hair, he looked up to the ceiling, closing his eyes as well. 

The splitting of Damian and Jon had its effects on most of the Batfam members in relationships, even after three months. Damian being this... sad... a ball of lost hope; Jon losing his usual smile and humor. It was heartbreaking for all of them, seeing them like this.

Around the second month, it was really getting to them. Break-up threats rising, fights occurring. Was it a curse?

Steph and Cass nearly lost it when a fight broke out between them. They did, however, work things out again, now happier than before. Happy bisexuals. 

So why couldn't there be happy gays? Or a happy gay and bisexual? Or happy lesbians? Or a happy anyone?

Thinking this way wasn't really... Jason's style. Sure, he cared more for his family and team than himself, but seeing them happy was all that mattered. 

Eating away at his heart, it hurt to see Damian, who he'd watch as a baby, grow up into the ultimate powerhouse of the Batfam. Weakness was something the League of Assassins shunned, so seeing someone who could match Ra's Al Ghul's strength at age _ten_ , was... different. 

**(Not sure if it's canon, but then again, this book isn't canon, so Idgaf.)**

All he could hope for; if he still had hope - was that Jon fixed this.

++

"Do you think they'll be okay?" Nova asked, hand and hand with Ashe. 

Ashe looked away from the little stream she and Nova stopped at, turning her head to her lilac haired girlfriend. "Damian and Jon?" 

She nodded. Ashe blinked, pursing her lips. "I'm not quite... sure. Damian's never acted like this... Jon too. Really, the situation is stressful as it is. They liked- no, loved each other at first sight, well, Jon did, but..." 

Ashe kicked a rock into the rushing water. "I don't know." 

"Neither do I." Nova copied, unhooking her hand from Ashe's. She wandered around, grabbing a stick from behind a tree. Uncapping a permanent marker she had in her pocket, Nova scribbled on the following words in Hangul:

'너는 나를 사랑한다. 진짜 냐 아니냐? "

나는 그녀에게 "진짜"라고 말한다.' 

**(Translation:** You love me. Real or not real?

I tell her, "Real." **Mind you, the translation might not be accurate, I used Google Translate.)**

Ashe looked over her shoulder. "A declaration?"

"No, stupid. A promise." 

"I like promises," Ashe snuck a kiss to Nova's cheek. 

"I really do hope that they get their shit together, 'cause I'm not dealing with the two of them."

"Oh, Ashe." 

++

Dick laid limp on Wally's couch, the stress from the last couple of months finally taking its toll on him. He'd mustered up enough energy to leave the house, drive to Wally's Gotham apartment, barge in and collapse onto his couch, asleep. 

Wally was in the kitchen, something that should never happen without adult supervision. Wait- 

Behind him, the tea kettle screeched, the loud bubbling of the boiling water adding to the ironic sounds. A packet of chamomile tea was leaned against a Flying Graysons mug, old, slightly yellow, but clean and usable. 

Dick's painted little face was a bit lopsided, but this was the one out of a couple more things that Dick had leftover from his time at Haly's Circus, meaning that this mug was priceless. Even if his face was practically sideways. Still not knowing how the mug hadn't shattered or exploded in the dishwasher, Wally simply traced the fading outline with a finger, eyes watching his boyfriend's chest rise and fall. 

Dark circles, something so unlike Dick puffed underneath his shut eyes. 

Wally chuckled, walking over to his couch. Leaning over the back, he poked Dick's ass first before shaking him awake. 

**(He touched the butt-)**

"Richieeee! I made tea..." he warmly smiled when Dick's cerulean eyes met with his forest green. 

"Mthanks... sorry about crashing on short notice. Damian-" 

"I know. Kon told me about it a couple of days ago." Dick sighed, thankful that he didn't have to share the details. 

"All I know is that Jon's life is on the line," Wally laughed as he brought over Dick's cup of hot tea, listening to Dick explain how they got all the weapons off of Damian. 

++

**(SHORT CHAPTER![sakisilk](https://www.wattpad.com/user/sakisilk)** [ (Friend from Wattpad)](https://www.wattpad.com/user/sakisilk) **before you get all up in my face about this, mind you, I'm tired and slightly bored. This is it! No, I'm not done with the goddamn book, nor am I tired of it already, but I was just uninspired for this chapter. The next chapter will be back to Damijon, longer than usual. Hope you enjoyed it!)**


	5. Five

When Damian awoke the next morning, he was more or less surprised to find Jon still asleep on his own separate bed. Jon, however many times he had slept in in the past, he had been quick to break the habit, mainly due to Damian's constant nagging and murder attempts when he did the do. Seeing him sprawled out on his bed brought back memories.

Damian frowned, delegating over whether or not to wake up his ex. 

He decided against it, heading over to the shower. 

Momentarily though, he paused, turning his head ever so slightly to glance over at Jon's sleeping form. He lightly snored - not too loud and obnoxious; not too quiet either. Something in Damian tugged at his heartstrings, wanting to go over and drown the half- Kryptonian in kisses and cuddles. Then again, they weren't really his thing. 

Damian's frown deepened. Each time he stared at Jonathan _fucking_ Samuel Kent, his heart decided to do its whole declaration of love scenario, which mainly included a whole Time Square New Year Ball Drop situation and a lot of confetti. 

It almost seemed that Damian had his mind rewired to just thinking about Jon.

Even now, after everything Jon has ever done to him, he still can't help but stare.

Stare at the mussled black hair halo-ing around his pillow, the fluttery eyelashes that shutter when he rolls from his side to his back... all in all, Damian isn't ready to take his eyes off him, even when he's been hurt so many times.

Realizing he has been caught into a rare trance, Damian snaps out it, cursing in Arabic underneath his breath. With a slight turn of his heel, he storms off into the bathroom, slamming the door. 

If that woke up Jon, he could (secretly care) care less. It was about time, he did, anyways. It was nearly about time they hit the road again. The only thing Damian wanted was to get to whatever beach they were sent on a 'mission' to, and get home as fast as possible.

He removes his clothing from the night before, entering the shower and allowing the cold water to stream over his nude body. Cold water would most definitely wake him up from whatever dream he's been placed into, since he clearly, does not remember having the same feelings for Jonathan _fucking_ Samuel Kent from the past. 

Past Damian, yes, current Damian... well, he doesn't. He doesn't. He never will, ever again. No matter what his inner conscience screams, shrieks, hollers - he doesn't. Jon shot his last shot, Damian got over it, he no longer houses the feelings he once had.

What happened this morning was something out of... well, Damian doesn't wish to explain it. And it's not like he'd willingly tell anyone; no, no, no, Damian Al Ghul Wayne does no such thing. He'd cover it up, claiming it was all just a bit of a 'zoning-out' moment.

Damian sighs, running his hands through his drenched hair. 

_'Pathetic,'_ thinks the former assassin. He reaches down, using his left hand to twist the shower faucet off. He bites his lip; he's clearly, if not most definitely, conflicted at the moment. He blames his idiotic heart - who needs feelings when Jonathan _fucking_ Samuel Kent would take them then turn them into nothing by grey ash with his laser eyes?

Resisting the temptation to swing his fist and shatter the murky glass shower door, he takes a uselessly calming breath, snatching the white towel that hangs over the door and wrapping it around his waist.

Damian takes a moment to step near the porcelain sink, brushing his teeth and drying his hair. Water droplets slide over his brozen abs, falling onto the towel still clinging to his waist. Outside of the bathroom, faint rustling could be heard. Jon was awake.

With a cleverly hidden eye roll and inward groan, Damian opens the door ajar, again, not surprised to see Jon pacing back and forth. In his hands, a neatly folded pile of clothing. Damian's. It was only now that the Wayne had realized that he never grabbed a change of clothing. Inward groan once again. He opened the door wider, catching the other's attention.

"AH! Um, Damian. Glad to know that you're awake. I wasn't really sure if you brought in a change of clothes, so I went ahead and... _damn it, this is awkward,_ um, here."

Damian takes it with a stern frown. 

"Funny how you knew that I didn't have a change of clothing." 

Jon stiffens, cheeks flushing pink. Damian's eyes narrow, staring intensely into the soul of the part-Kryptonian. Jon knows by now that avoiding eye contact with Damian would only end in him finding out his deepest darkest secrets and fibs.

"And how do I know that you weren't using that see-through vision of yours?"

By now, Jon is straight as a board. Damian gives him his signature 'Batglare.'

"Answer me, Kent. In what treacherous portion of your thick skull allows you to _watch_ with greedy eyes as I shower? You mindless _pervert,_ " he hisses. Jon is quick to defend himself. He steps back, never breaking eye contact with his angry- pissed ex-boyfriend.

"I swear- I _swear_ on my life that I only used it to see if you had extra clothing or not."

Those words 'I swear on my life' have no effect on Damian Al Ghul Wayne.

"You must cherish your life," he sneers, forcing away the impending guilt from seeing Jon's hurt face. "If you so swear on it. Watch yourself, _Kent._ We're lovers no longer. Partners no longer. Keep your eyes to yourself if you wish to keep your life."

With one more menacing glare, Damian promptly slams the poor door again.

Instantly, he regrets shouting those words at Jon. Again, he tries to shove away the lingering feelings he has for Jonathan _fucking_ Samuel Kent. He may have them still. He can deny it as long as it lasts - Damian wants to gut him then hug him.

Fighting against his heart over his head is painful. 

Was loving a lost love supposed to be this unbearable?

++

Jon wants to punch the door down and hold Damian. He gets that he misused his power of seeing through solid, inanimate objects, but not to snoop or see the bronze curves and tan scars that enlined his- or... no, just Damian's body. He knows Damian is self-conscious. Though he may never admit, he could quite tell just by reading the look in the emerald eyes he fell for.

Scars from when he was a child, a misled child led to becoming a leader of an elite group of assassins, scars from his early days as Robin - as Damian Wayne; not Al Ghul. Not the grandson of Al Ghul, not the son of Talia Al Ghul. Scars from previous years. 

Even during their eventful nights of pure lust and heat (basically, sex) Damian always had a thing for wanting Jon to look away; he didn't wish for him to see whatever scars burdened the soft Middle Eastern tan of Damian's beautiful skin. 

Jon figured he wouldn't have wished for him to see the marks, considering the broken relationship the two had now. If it Jon in Damian's body, he probably would have thought the same. Someone who no longer held his trust shouldn't have the access to wander their eyes over the painful reminders of harsh pasts.

 _'Shitty idiot,'_ thinks Jon. He doesn't blame Damian for proclaiming his a mindless pervert.

Really, he would consider the encounter all on himself, Jonathan Samuel Kent.

"Dumbass," mutters the heartbroken Jon. Really, was it right for Jon to be heartbroken when it was him who broke Damian's heart in the first place? It almost seemed unfair; why should Jon, the bringer of Damian's grief, be the one showing it in the first place?

Guilt, most definitely. In all of Jon's twenty-one years of life, he never would have expressed this sense of grief because of his actions. If a death occurred, yes. He almost smirked at that. A death did occur. Most likely Damian's feelings for him.

He was almost gullible. One drunken mistake and life goes to shit.

Yet, Jon still wanted to be at Damian's side. His feelings were almost like a blazing hellflame on a cold night. The flames ate away at the cold; the overbearing waves of pressure to get over it. The guilt. The hellflame represented the dire affection and love he still maintained over Damian. 

"مهما كلف حبي. خطأي ، وسعي إلى تكريس حبي وعاطفي وحياتي لك مرة أخرى," he whispered in Arabic.

One part of him prays that Damian can hear it. Another wishes he won't.

Jon knows now what to do to earn back Damian's trust. 

Hopefully he can learn to earn Damian's love back. 

Is there a saying that expresses the feeling of guilt eating you up inside? Jon feels that. He merely closes his eyes, reciting the words of Arabic repeating in his mind. Really, it's now like a promise. A swear, an oath he is willing to take. 

Maybe, just maybe, he would get Damian back.

//Translation: _note: I did use google translate, so it might not be 100% correct. **whatever it takes my love. my fault, my quest to devote my love, affection, and life to you once more.**_


	6. 6

**AHHHH! Making up for all the excuses, excuses, excuses, excuses! Here's a longer- and I swear, it's longer- chapter for all your troubles! Enjoy!**

+

Damian sits in the passenger seat of Jon's car, watching from out of the corner of his sharp eyes through the tinted lenses of his designer sunglasses. Jon hauls their suitcases into the back, stopping occasionally to stare at the sun, squinting. 

He harshly sighs, crossing his legs atop of one another as Jon finally slams the trunk shut, turning his head in the opposite direction. The car leans towards one side as Jon piles in, taking his spot as the driver. For a second, a hopeful gleam shimmers across the deep azure orbs that are Jon's eyes. Damian clicks his tongue, giving him a 'tt.'

"Where are we heading to today?" Damian asked, pressing the button that pulled the convertible roof over their heads. Jon bit his lip, pressing his phone into the stand that displayed it. He pulled up his GPS app, typing in the address. 

"Hopefully, we can end up in Ohio by tonight. We could stay for a day to sightsee if you want." 

Damian rubbed the areas beneath his eyes. "I would rather not," he stated. 

Jon winced but obeys. "I suppose we should hit the road now."

"Yes, we should, _Kent,"_ visible wince from Jon. "We should."

Damian doesn't speak that much for the rest of trip. 

+

The A/C blasted at full power, blowing Jon and Damian's hair back. The radio, for once, wasn't on, per Damian's request (order). They sat in silence for the first two hours or so, giving Jon massive 'awkwardness' feelings. Damian wasn't even asleep - or doing anything for that matter.

Looking out the window, possibly. Thinking about how to skewer Jon's entrails with a rod of Kryptonite. The thought of it was just unsettling to Jon. He shivered. Damian glanced over, noticing the goosebumps formed on Jon's tan skin. 

Without a word, he brought one hand up to crank down the air conditioner. Jon looked over, Damian looked back. The Kent gave him a nod of thanks. Damian shrugged, averting himself from Jon's vision. He let out a grunt, settling into the black leather of his seat. 

"Drive another ten miles, then we can switch," he muttered. "You seem tired."

"Oh!" Jon slowly cowered in his seat. "Yeah, that'll be nice. Um... you sure?"

"You either accept it or you don't, Kent. It's a one-time offer."

Jon exhaled in defeat. It was no use fighting with Damian, whether it be verbally or physically. There was just something about it that made it nearly impossible. It didn't matter if Jon had enhanced strength, could fly, shoot lasers out of his eyes, survive bullets and knives and... anything that the Kryptonian blood that flowed through his veins allowed him to do and live through. It was like arguing with a living human being made of Kryptonite. 

"So... how's..." _shoot._ Jon doesn't even know what to do or really even talk about now. Back when he and Damian were on good terms; meaning they were still prospering and enjoying their lives as a chaotic and fluffy pair. Couple. "How's... Alfred."

"Which one?" Damian deadpanned. "Butler or cat. ...Both are fine at the moment."

Jon nodded, relieved to know the two Alfred's were doing well. 

"How is your mother?" Damian says, picking at speck of dirt out from underneath his perfectly trimmed nails. "She seemed stressed when she and Clark visited the manor. Is everything alright between the three of you?"

"Oh. OH! Um, probably shouldn't sound so enthusiastic about that. I was... aggressive towards her when we- you- I MEANT we broke up and..." he shook his head. "I wasn't acting my normal self around her and kind of... I didn't say anything terrible to her, nor did I do anything I would regret... I guess I was just out of it. A mess, you know what I'm saying...?"

"Precisely," Damian spoke. "I must admit, I was the same. A 'mess,' according to Dick."

"Yeah... I mean, one reason was because of the rivalry between our dads. Y'know... the old 'Batman vs Superman' business? Ma said that one of the things that kept them at stake was our relationship and-" Jon paused, not sure if he wished to continue. Something in him told him that the words that he spoke were basically telling Damian that their entire relationship was a thing so that their dads weren't attempt to kill each other every other year. 

"Continue," Damian motioned with his hand. 

Jon gulped. He didn't want to. He could tell that Damian was uncomfortable. 

"I said 'continue,' Kent. Is it that hard to speak when spoken to?"

Gripping the steering wheel tighter, Jon calmly (or, as calm as he wished he felt) grit his teeth. He looked over at Damian, who still glared at him with an eyebrow raised. He clearly expected an answer. As much as he wanted to give one, he felt as if he shouldn't. 

Damian was clearly getting a different message; as much as he wanted to be frustrated, or angry, or... just disappointed at Damian, he couldn't. After all, Damian asked a simple question worrying about his mother's health and suddenly Jon begins to ramble about how the entirety of the Kent and Wayne family depended on their relationship. 

Of course, there was also Kon and Tim... but their whole... everything was different. 

"I'm sorry. I just... I'm not pinning the blame on you, but the question is making me uncomfortable and I would rather not answer it, Damian."

Damian frowned. He may have muttered a curse under his breath. 

"It's been ten miles. Pull over and let me drive."

"I can go-" Jon was interrupted by Damian's glare. "Alright." 

He hastily drove towards the side of the road, putting the car in 'park.'

Damian got out of the car next, taking Jon's spot. Jon, however many times he wanted to insist on driving till the next stop they take, reluctantly took the passenger's seat. After Damian got everything situated, he began to drive once again.

Jon fiddled with his hands, not really knowing what to do. Damian wouldn't listen to him - not that he blamed him, of course, he would never do such a thing. I mean, would he? Side-glances were sent over at Damian's grim face, who kept a stern look on the road ahead of them. Not once, did Damian's eye falter or even move towards another direction.

In a sense, it brought back the memories of the them working together when they were both kids. Damian, despite the domino mask, was always concentrating on something. Not that he noticed it back then, but he later found out years later, with the two of them 23 and 20, respectively. Damian had bashfully told him the morning after a risky mission almost-went-wrong that in the entire ten years of knowing him, the one thing he never admitted was how the eyes of emerald he held, always wandered towards Jon.

Yet Jon, even with his x-ray vision, hadn't noticed until Damian told him nearly six years later. Seeing Damian now, eyes just partially unblocked by the dark lenses of his designer sunglasses, he couldn't see the hidden side-glance he had grown to catch. 

Every dinner, every mission, every gala, every date, every romantic moment to shared - even during the sexual events, there was always that side-glance that gave Jon the feeling of calm. That he had someone he was willing to leave his life with. Someone was watching him carefully, willing to protect him whatever.

Jon sucked in both lips, pursing them until it hurt with a swollen feeling.

"Want me to find us a... um... motel?" Jon's phone, which still had the GPS coordinates telling Damian to either switch a lane or watch out for whatever miles he needed to exit the highway. Damian sniffed. "I'm fully capable of driving throughout the night. Need you rest, I suppose you can recline your chair."

"Are you sure?" Jon questioned, uncertainty written in quite well in his worried tone. 

If Damian wanted to rip the steering wheel out, he probably would. Thankfully, he didn't, considering the fact that this car was the only source of transportation they had besides Jon and his flying. But he seriously doubted that Damian would want to ride on Jon's back or lay in his arms as he flew through the air like old times. 

"I am. When have I ever been a conniving _liar_?" he spat that last part out as if it were his remaining affections for Jon. So there goes that. "As far as I can tell, I'm well rested enough and willing to spend my night driving. I'm this," he demonstrated with one hand, holding his index and thumb incredibly close together. "Close you shoving you out of this car."

"'m... sorry." For a split second, he could've sworn he saw the infamous, affectionate side-glance. Had he been blessed with the superspeed of a Allen/West family member instead of his Kryptonian genes, he could have seen the beautiful emerald - although, barely seen - irises staring into his own. With a inward sigh, he took his phone, opening the message app with the GPS still giving directions in the background.

 _/7 unread texts from ⚡Bart_ _⚡, novus_ 🌠, _ashieee, and 3 others/_

Jon clenched his teeth, realizing that he forgot all about his friends and family. 

He had been spending so much time thinking of Damian... not that he didn't consider family already... almost like a husband instead of boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend. Ex-family... he opened up the first message, which was two memes about Superboy (himself) and an emoji paired with a message about him not answering his phone.

The next was a message regarding the mission from Novus... as well as a couple cute pictures she took with her ~pro~ photographer skills. Sunsets, Ashe surfing, Alfred the cat, Alfred the butler, and a dinner she made with her older brother, Sirius. 

He had to answer that one or Novus would most likely make use of the post she mounted his decapitated head to as a photo prop. One thing that you always have to do when meeting Novus is always answer her messages. Even if it's just a simple emoji or 'ok.'

Finally, he answered the three from his mom, Wally, who also sent a meme, and one from Tim, surprisingly, who sent him a surprisingly threatening text about how he wouldn't hesitate to shove his amputated arms where the sun wouldn't _dare_ to shine if he didn't make things up with Damian. 

With Ashe's message, he gave a simple report on Damian's condition. 

By now, the sun was beginning to set. Jon hadn't even realized they'd been driving that long. Considering the fact that Jon had driven for most of the day, he hadn't even noticed the changes because of his focus on the road. 

The sky was turned a fiery yellow - orange blend, staining the clouds with the rambunctious color. In some parts, the sky was a murky greenish-grey, no doubt the night ready to creep in and consume the remaining parts of the sunlight until the next day. 

"It's calming, isn't it?" 

Jon nearly leapt out of his seat.

{t.b.c}


End file.
